Helpless
by Trickster-jz
Summary: A Jedi Knight is torn between his duty to the peace of the galaxy – and the woman he loves.


**Helpless (A Dark Romance One-poster)****   
By Trickster_Jaina_Fel**   
  
  
  
**Disclaimer**: The characters belong to George Lucas and as much as I wish it weren't true, I will _never_ own them. I'm not getting any money for this, just the pleasure of playing with GL's toys. 

**Summary**: A Jedi Knight is torn between his duty to the peace of the galaxy – and the woman he loves.  
  
**Note**: alright, this is what happens when one Trickster_Jaina_Fel reads DantanaSkywalker's viggie "Escape", re-reads Jade_Max's "Not Strong Enough to Say No," has a mind meltdown from PB's with this pairing, and thinks about a Buffy/Angelus fic she read once :P  Oh, it also comes from the time (11:00 – 12:00, when I'm supposed to be sleeping), and from watching "Rush Hour 2" (I know, I don't get how this came about either. Something just went *bonk* when I watched it and suddenly I was inspired). Enjoy   
  
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She was here. He knew she was. He could _feel_ her, and she knew he could.   
  
She was here for him, of that he had no doubt. She had always found him and he had always escaped her clutches. She said it was because she did not want to take him by force; she loved the thrill of the chase.   
  
But this time was different; he was weaker, vulnerable, and really, _really_ wanted to pull her into his arms and let out his pent-up passion and frustration.   
  
She probably knew it – in fact, he _knew_ she did. The last time he had seen her, he had nearly broken beneath her will. She had faltered for a moment, seeing his will crumble in his eyes – she must have – but she had stepped back, and let him go. He had escaped to his ship and spent the rest of the year making hyperspace jump after hyperspace jump, trying to keep ahead of her.   
  
But now she was back. He could feel it in the air; the tangy, luxurious quality that seemed to thicken the air, making respiration nearly impossible. It would get more impossible the closer she came, but it would not be from her _Force_ presence. No, it would be from her proximity, having her so close, willing and ready, but exactly what he should not want. What he _could_ not want.   
  
She had fallen to the Dark side; she flaunted her title as a Lady of the Sith, revelled in it. She had gathered troops to her cause and slaughtered the 'Vong as if they were mere insects, and then turned her eye to the rest of the galaxy. The New Republic, Empire and Chiss – all pledged allegiance to her or died. The Jedi had been killed, whether they were willing to turn or not.   
  
She would not allow any possible rebellion to survive; she crushed it to the ground, under her elegant high heel, and laughed.   
  
But she had let him live; she had seen something in him that she wanted, or perhaps…perhaps, something she could not beat. She had no true allies; everyone under her rule was treated with suspicion. She had taken the galaxy from its inhabitants; who among them would not wish to rebel? He had heard rumours that she had the being that had prepared her meals sample her food before she ever got near it.   
  
He had seen that within her eyes the last time she looked at him; had heard it from her own, beautiful, begging-to-be-kissed lips the first time she had tried to turn him. She had offered him a position at her side. Her offer had been tempting, not because the Darkness still held him, but because he wanted to fall asleep at night, knowing she was _his_ and his alone, the way she should have always been.   
  
He had thrown her offer back in her face, forcing himself to turn a deaf ear when she said that he was her only equal and she _would_ have him. She had sworn that no matter how many star systems she had to destroy, no matter what she had to do, he would join him.   
  
If he had been a reasonable man, he would have used that against her. She was willing to give up anything and everything just to have him; he could have pretended to capitulate, then infiltrate her heart and destroy her. She was, after all, still a woman, perceptible to the weakness of emotion that her gender had passed on to her. She could not be stopped through power struggles – her heritage would never allow such a pathetic fall. No, her only vulnerability was her heart.   
  
But so was his. He could not destroy the one he loved, no matter what she had become, no matter what she had destroyed. He had tried to curse her, banish her from his mind and heart, disinherit her hold over him, but just as he could not deny himself, he could not deny her.   
  
His fist curled into a fist without his consent but he ignored it, just as he ignored the rain that poured down on him. His shirt was soaking by now, nearly transparent from the rain, and clinging to his skin. He wondered vaguely if what she saw when she found him – for she _would_ find him, it was inevitable – would please her.   
  
It shouldn't have mattered, but it did. Emperor's black bones, but it did. It meant everything. And he hated himself for it.   
  
He would not try to escape her, not this time. No, it would end or begin here, in the pouring rain, in the open flight hanger. He would surrender to his heart's desire, or he would die. That was how it _had_ to end, for to continue this would destroy them both.   
  
And he would not see her destroyed.   
  
And so he stood, in the rain, his clothes plastered to his skin, shivering slightly. To the casual viewer, perhaps he would seem afraid.   
  
But he wasn't.   
  
No, damn it all, he had been waiting for this for so long…he wanted her. He wanted to feel her pressed against him, wanted to ravage her mouth, and then the rest of her. If he didn't do it, and soon, he wouldn't have to wait for her to kill him; his body and heart would rise against him and crush his lungs, stopping his life instantly. He trembled, not from fear, but from love and a good share of lust.   
  
Shavit, how could he love her? _How?_ She had destroyed all he cared for. She was not the girl he had known; she was a woman now, hardened and cruel.   
  
But she still had the most beautiful smile and the most bewitching eyes he had ever seen.   
  
She was still as irresistible as she had been at the beginning of this war, and she always would. He wondered angrily if she had perhaps used some form of magic on his soul, binding him to her so irrevocably that it was not even his own fault that he loved her. Perhaps she was _making_ him helpless against her. Perhaps she had turned long before the war and every word, every gesture, every heat-filled look had been used at exactly the point which he was weak enough for her to enchant him.   
  
He drew his fingers threw his hair, swearing viciously. No, he had always known that she would control him, even when she was innocent, and she _had_ been innocent when he first fell for her. Her fall to the Dark side had merely called to his own Darkness, entwining his fate to hers. Maybe she was even as helpless to turn away from what they had as he was.   
  
Or maybe she was simply as Dark as they said; willing to do anything for the sake of power. Maybe she had seen the fact that he was more powerful even than the former head of the Jedi and wanted him under her thumb. Maybe she wanted to be able to crow that _she_ had harnessed him; that _she_ was more powerful than _him_. Against his will, he hoped it would please her. He hoped that, when she realized her victory, he would be able to see the pleasure blossom in her eyes. Sith, he would destroy anything she asked him to just to see her happy.   
  
He growled deep within his throat and banged his fist against a nearby ship. The sound of his fist hitting the metal rang out but he ignored it, like he ignored his subconscious use of the Force to make his punch more powerful.   
  
He couldn't face her like this; he would do something he would regret later and there would be no backing out. He _had_ to find his control. He had been a Jedi for years – surely, somewhere down the road, he had learned how to use steel will in a time when he was helpless?   
  
He couldn't remember one.   
  
It really was going to end here.   
  
It would only take a few moments for her to push past his last few defences and then…he trembled. And then, he would not be able to hold back any more. The Darkness within him would mix with his passion, his frustration, and he would take her, allow her to harness him completely, and the galaxy would be lost.   
  
His eyes closed tightly a moment, his head tilted up in the rain as he allowed himself his moment of self-pity. Why did he have to have such a screwed up love life?! Why did his decisions have to affect the whole Sith-spawned galaxy? He was merely human; he could not control his heart, could not control his impulses.   
  
_He wasn't perfect._   
  
How could he be entrusted with the galaxy when he was in love with the woman who was bent on destroying it? He couldn't be strong, not when it came to her. He never _had_ been able to turn her down. He was weak, inconsequential. When she wanted something, it was clear to him that she would get it. It wasn't exactly the ideal disposition for the lone man who could bring peace to the galaxy.   
  
_Can't it be easy, even for a moment?_   
  
"Of course not."   
  
Her voice froze his blood and he stopped any thoughts or movements.   
  
She was here.   
  
_She's here.   
  
She.   
  
Is.   
  
Here.   
  
KRIFF!_   
  
Slowly, he opened his eyes and brought his head down until he could see her. There was nearly twenty meters between them, but it was still close enough to make his head spin and his knees shake. She was a tiny woman, and as consequence he was able to let his eyes caress her several times up and down in a small amount of time.   
  
She was beautiful.   
  
Her already-wet hair was loose, falling down her back to mid-stomach. Her black pants were tight at the top of her legs and fell loosely, flattering the tight, tantalizing muscles in her legs. Her top was red, complimenting her hair perfectly. The top would not last long in this rain; already it was clinging to her, leaving nothing to the imagination.   
  
He felt his breath quicken. Not much longer now.   
  
The cut of her clothing was modest, showing only small amounts of skin, bright pink from the cold and the smart of the rain, but definitely too much for her to be showing without a response from him.   
  
When his eyes made it to her face she smiled softly, belying the evil that bred in her soul. Her face still looked innocent, but he noticed that she looked tired, exhausted, even.   
  
"You found me." He took a step closer to her, feeling his blood begin to melt.   
  
Her eyes locked on his. "I told you I would; I keep my promises."   
  
"You look tired."   
  
She took several steps in his direction to his one. "Why do you fight this?" The question sounded almost desperate and he wondered for a moment if she really _was_ as helpless to this whole thing as he was. "We are necessary to each other the way air is necessary to any human. You can't deny it."   
  
His eyes shut briefly and when he opened them again she was in front of him, her face upturned to see him properly. His own head tipped down in response to her closeness and his blood begun to turn to lava. "I am a Jedi; I cannot and will not give in to your evil. You are a Sith – the enemy."   
  
She took a small step back, as if the words had struck her. "Is that all I am?" she whispered painfully. "I am only evil, and so I must be destroyed? I was Jedi once, too, but found that is _not the way_ – you know it's true. If it weren't for my epiphany, the 'Vong would still have control of the galaxy. We would still be prisoners."   
  
"The only difference between the 'Vong and you are that you are human and a lone person, while they were alien and an entire species," he said harshly, hating the words that left his mouth.   
  
Her head dropped into her hands. "I did what I had to," she said softly. "If you knew what I did, you would have done the same, admit it!" Her fire restored, she looked up, stepping into his personal space again, until they were almost touching.   
  
The air between them fairly crackled with tension and he could barely keep his hands where they were.   
  
"I will not give into this."   
  
Later, he would wonder if he had thrown that out because he knew it would anger her, spur her into action. Why did she torture him slowly? They both knew she had the control; she was the one that held their fate in her hands. She should do what she wanted to do – and quickly – before his control crumbled.   
  
Maybe he _had_ done it on purpose; he certainly got his reaction. She had never been even-tempered and his words served to push her over the edge. He was denying the only thing that had gotten her through the years of following him around the galaxy. He was refusing to admit the one thing she cherished, the one thing that kept her human, kept her sane.   
  
Her hand reached up and grabbed his shirt in her fist, pulling his head down to hers. "Oh, but you will," she whispered throatily. "You can't help what you feel anymore than I can." Her lips brushed against his every time they moved, teasing him.   
  
Against his will, his arms crept around her side, pushing against her back roughly, so that she was pressed hard against him. Her head tipped back slightly, lips parted, chest heaving.   
  
It took not even a second for him to take in her heavy-lidded eyes and less than that for his will to snap and his open mouth press against her, hard. Instantly feeling his surrender, her body becoming limp in his arms, her own arms encircling his neck, a moan escaping her mouth.   
  
His knees gave way and they fell to the ground, the cold puddles doing nothing to dampen their passion. She lay underneath him, completely vulnerable to him and whatever he should plan to do to her. Everything – her mind, body and Force presence – begged him to take her. Only too happy to comply, he took her head in his hands, cradling it a moment before leaning in to trail hot kisses down her neck and across her shoulder. Her hands moved up and down his back and around to his chest, then tugged at her shirt neck to give him more access, urging him to continue.   
  
He paused his ministrations momentarily when he saw a small scar on the far side of her shoulder bone. He knew where she had gotten it; it had been her uncle's final gift before she killed him. The reality of who they were came rushing back and he began to pull away but a soft moan and touch stopped him. His eyes found hers, brandy brown meeting fierce green.   
  
"Please," she whispered, the rain pelting against her skin.   
  
He heard what she did not say – she wanted him to stay. She _needed_ him to. It came down to this moment: the woman he loved needed him. He could see it there, in her eyes, in the way she reacted to his touch. If he left now, it could destroy her.   
  
He could not walk away from her, could not resist her.   
  
At the same time, though, he _had_ to. If he did not resist her, the galaxy would fall. Together, they would be unstoppable, the most potent force in this galaxy – or any other, for that matter. If he did not resist her, he doomed everything he had ever worked for. There would be no hope for the galaxy – the Jedi were long gone, never to return, and no one would be insane enough to try to go against the two of them.   
  
He _had_ to walk away; he _had_ to resist her!   
  
But he couldn't. He would have to betray everything and everyone – for her. It was enough to drive a man mad. But then, didn't anyone who fell in love go mad? Perhaps it was easier for him; he had been captured and rendered helpless from the very beginning. There had never been a fight.   
  
Never.   
  
Her eyes pleaded with him to stay, and he would not challenge her hold over him.   
  
His choice had been made for him.   
  
And so Kyp Durron leaned down and made Jaina Solo his own.   
  
The galaxy was doomed, but they were not – helpless in each others arms, there was nothing that could stop them now.   
  
*FIN*


End file.
